can i be close to you?
can i be the last thought on your mind?
can i be the last deep sigh you made
when you finally shut your eyes?

can i be the memory from a familiar smell?
or the perfect song from the radio
that you can't seem to get out your head
because it sings along as you go

can i be the warmth under your covers?
or the tingling chill down your spine
when you see something beautiful
or when i whisper that you're only mine

can i be that hidden smile you make
when you think no one is around?
can i be the destination you take
when you're driving through town?

because i want to be everything to you.
even the simplest and daily things you do.
because then i'll know that you're thinking of me,
just as much as i'm thinking of you.

It is a priviledge to be loved by a poet,
to be embraced by the meter and the rhyme
and caressed by soft metaphors and sharp alliterations.
To be painted a universe with words and run-on sentences
that converge in a single thought expressed with
similes and repetitions of a single symbol.
It is an honor to be loved by a poet,
to be celebrated with odes, mourned with elegys
and elevated to a pedestal by a canticle.
It is a marvel to be loved by a poet,
to be the muse of long, weary nights of concentration
and be part of passionate lines in dramatic monologues
as each is recited with the intonation of rising ardour.
To be submerged in sizzling appreciation of one's quirks
and virtue.
To be loved and to love.
To provoke an inspiration and a sigh of ephemeral longing
and bring about a remedy to the mourning.
It is a misery and joy to be loved and be of unrequited
provocative inspiration to the riveting mind of a lone
and solitary poet.

i tend to over think things and
sometimes i'm too
sensitive
taking everything to heart.
there are days when
all i want
is to
cry
and others that are
filled with
laughter.
i'm clumsy and careless and
a little too self conscious
but if you care
enough
to let me in
i'll show you the
secrets
i hide behind this
cracked smile.
when i whisper
it's only because i
don't want to hear
my own voice
and when i sing
it's to tell you
how much
i love
you.
i love the beach right
before summer
really hits
and i love the
autumn leaves
before they
fall.
my favorite flavor is
you
and my sanctuary
is your
embrace
and when you laugh
it's like my own
lullaby.
but even with all
the beauty in
this world
i still
ceased to see
the light
and i gave in to the
darkness.
and ever since i
survived
i take it just
one day
at a
time
but i know
i'll be
alright
cuz i have you
right by
my
side.

I've been collecting ear wax
Since the belly button lint dust fire went bad
I lost all my dignity in that fiasco
So ear wax is all that I have left

Believe you me, it's not easy
Coming up with another scheme
After burning the whole town down to the ground
To get a single soul to look or even listen to me

But that fateful day that I dug deep
And pulled a replica of the Eiffel Tower out of my ear
I knew that fame and fortune lay before me
My time had arrived, my time was here

Who should I call first over my artful discovery
The Post?  The Enquirer?  The Times?
No I would call The Museum Of Modern Art in NYC
For the Art World would soon be mine

I knew I had to ratchet it up a notch
One piece of ear wax art might be a fluke
So I got out my brush...the Q-tip
And removed a portrait of John Wayne AKA The Duke

Since I live in a hippie commune in the woods
Little furry creatures would always stop by
To gaze upon the artful process
Squirrels can be the best of critics...no lie!

Which gave me the idea with all the left over ear wax
I sculptured a mini-amusement park with mini-arcades
And charged the woodland creatures nuts and berries
Which helped feed the hippies with whom I stay

It wasn't long after that I received the letter
Stating that art had a need for me
I've become known as The Andy Warhol of The Art World
With abstract ear wax being my specialty

Now I go to all the major "Who Does"
Where everybody knows my name
As I create masterpieces right before their eyes
Just don't hold it to close to the flame

Who would have ever thought that ear wax
Would be the perfect medium
To jet propel this Simpleton
To Art World stardom and beyond

I woke up this morning
Sporting a Beret
Speaking in an accent
Parlez-vous francais?

With a scarf around my neck
A pencil thin moustache
Afraid I might have woke up French
A slight giggle to my laugh

With a strong urge for fresh Baguette's
I head to the grocery
I told my cat I'd be right back
He looked at me... Cest la vie

I thought about this long and hard
In fact I thought about it all the time
What would happen to belly button lint
If you set the stuff on fire

I collected more than enough
Over the years to see this through
So I went and invited a few friends along
The word it spread and the crowd it grew

All the folk from the town came out
They'd been collecting belly button lint just like I had
Not quite as impressive a pile as mine
I guess I'm the biggest belly button lint dust collecting man
That's (B.B.B.L.D.C.M.) if you want to simplify who it is I am

You might think that's something to be proud of
And believe me when I say that I am
After I got through signing autographs
We proceeded with my grand plan

The crowd stepped up one by one
To toss their lint onto the pile
Coming close to blocking out the moon
As the pile grew ever higher

(Finally the time had come to light up
the famed belly button lint dust fire)

It was Frankie who spoke up first
And said he'd be honored to flick his bic
That was the very last time we saw any of him
Frankie and the lint lit up like a rocket ship

When the shock wore off I turned around
And saw the whole town up in flames
I've had a lot of great ideas before
I'm not quite sure this was one of them

I now live in a hippie commune in the woods
Since my towns no longer there
It's kind of lonely without Frankie around
Although there's still that lingering hint of burning hair

I no longer collect belly button lint these days
I sure learned my lesson with that
Haven't worked out the details of my next grand idea
But I can tell you it involves a big ball of my ear wax

For so long I've had this deep desire
A need to write the perfect poem
One that will bring a tear to the driest eye
Brighten up the darkest soul

Hold the answers to all the questions
Man has ever cared to ask
Starting many on their journey
To a future free of their past

Giving hope to all the children
Those that have gone astray
Helping out the hapless pilgrim
That's been lost along the way

A poem that will bring to mind the best of times
When it was love that ruled the day
Making us want to give all we have and more
A deep desire for all to change

Is that to much to ask for
Too far out of reach or out of sight
A poem to change the very heart of man
The poem that I desire to write

When you ask of me, why poetry
I'm not sure you understand
That it's the center of my universe
The very depth of who I am

The molecules in the air I breath
Oxygen pulsing through the veins
The storm brewing beneath the surface
The pounding of the rain

It's the timeless anticipation
Of the thought that's yet to come
The tearing open of life's seam
The beating of the drum

The first peak of the desert flower
When it feels the gentle touch of spring
The smile in the eyes of a child
And all the joy it brings

The in and out of the tide
In the pulling of the waves
When you ask of me, why poetry
What more is there to say

you say you're scared of clowns
but i don't understand
how can that fake smile scare you
and yet you spend so long trying to find comfort in your own

m.g.

Dear daddy,
there's a box full of letters under my bed
I wrote them to you but kept them in my head
For reasons a little more than "left unsaid"
No, I can't communicate with the dead
Paper doesn't reply
And if it could,
It wouldn't compare to the conversations between you and I
You were inspiring and wonderful
Did you know that, daddy?
You were brave so that we were comfortable
In a house with safety that still survives
To me, you've never died
And every time I say that you have,
I feel that I've lied
In my dreams, you're still real
A body I can hug,
A person I can feel
But when I wake up,
you are gone again
And I'm struggling...I am
Because I lost my best friend
We were getting closer, weren't we?
Things were getting better, weren't they?
I know everything happens for a reason,
or at least that's what they say
But I can't find a reason to take a man's life
Though I can find a reason to use this knife...
But I'm stronger than that, and maybe that's why
Good people must go, even the best must die
I might've lost my dad, but I won't lose this fight

Dear daddy, you should know that I'm much stronger now
I'm falling apart but I stand tall somehow
And it hurts every day, and we all still cry
But you had to go, and even though I don't know why
I know that there's a reason behind your leaving
I know that there's a reason I was the one to find you'd stopped breathing
I know there's a reason for October 15th
I know I don't know that reason,
But I'm getting closer, I think.